


Cracked and dry

by syusuke



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arthur comes back, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Merlin, Mental Breakdown, Merlin is a waiter, Merlin remembers everything, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Reincarnation, Survivor Guilt, gwaine is a good friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 09:16:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14185743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syusuke/pseuds/syusuke
Summary: After years of waiting for Arthur, Merlin has gone numb. He doesn’t live, he merely exists.





	Cracked and dry

It was a warm summer night and Merlin had the rest of the week off. So he did, what he always did. It had become a routine, constant through his various incarnations. Maybe the only constant he could manage. He had left his flat in London behind, to camp here in Wales. Fortunately, the lakeside wasn’t popular and it never had been. This meant much appreciated peace and quiet, especially in the middle of the night.

Night it was. Merlin had made a fire. He no longer needed to collect wood. There was enough space in the car to bring it with him. In many ways his life was much easier in the modern world. He had a job in a hipster bar in Camden Town. He liked to work as a waiter. That way he could see the world change everyday and it reminded him of Gwaine. Brave, reckless Gwaine who had given his life trying to protect Arthur. Merlin had only found out after his return to Camelot. And back then… it had taken him several days to leave the lake behind and Arthur with it. 

His return had not been a happy one, he had brought the worst news possible. The whole kingdom had grieved their king, a righteous kind-hearted leader. Gwen had struggled with her new position and everyone had tried to help out. But after everything had been organized, Merlin had left. He ran away, all the way back to Ealdor where he had suffered the biggest breakdown. He had cried for days, screaming, sobbing. Finally, he had felt safe enough to mourn his two best friends. Both of them had been a source of happiness in his life, both great at cheering him up with their infectious laughter. 

Oh, how many times Merlin had cursed his immortality. Incarnation after incarnation he had tried to fit in. He hid his magic. First, because the church hunted down magic-users even more vigorously than Uther had, later on because sorcery and faith had slowly been replaced by science and nobody would have even tried to understand it. He chuckled softly. Once he had even worked as a magician and everybody had been fascinated by his show, never able to figure out his tricks. Of course, there had never been a trick. His magic might have gotten weaker as the nature was destroyed to path the way for industrialization, but it was still there. 

Here at the lake he felt it as strong as ever. It was woven into the fabric of this land, so deeply, so delicately. Merlin was convinced that however long it would take for magic to disappear from this world, this would be the place it lasted the longest. Or maybe, Aithusa would last even longer. But Merlin hadn’t seen the dragon in hundreds of years. Last he had seen her, was in Scotland. She had found a cave close to a lake and as far as he had been able to tell, she was hiding.

So many lives, so many deaths. Cursed to be reborn with every memory, never fading, always clear. Somewhere in the last 50 years he had lost his ability to cry. He got sad, depressed, frustrated, but he never cried. Not even the uncontrollable tears of joy in a laughing fit. He knew that this wasn’t a good change. Sometimes he felt, like he should cry and let it out. All the grieve, all the pain, it demanded to be felt, to be expressed. Merlin honestly wished he could, but lately he couldn’t feel a damn thing. No pain, no joy, no regret, no content. Just nothing. 

It had been so long. So very, very long. He tried not to get close to people anymore, it hurt too much when he inevitably lost them again. It destroyed him slowly, corroding him from the inside. Merlin used to be so full of life and emotion. He used to be so open about it too, making friends easily and enjoying the banter or a nice warm hug. Merlin knew that he needed those connections and that he couldn’t stay alone. Not for long anyway. But why try? Why risk to be hurt again and again?

He lifted his hand lazily, slowly tracing shapes in the air and whispering the old spell. The flames started dancing wildly, then forming distinct shapes. Soon he was watching Gwaine and Arthur training together. Both smirking and making fun of each other. He let it fade, dismissing the magic. 

He heard the words of the great dragon again: “When Albion’s need is greatest, Arthur will return”. 

Time and time again he had wondered, what would have to happen? He had seen so many wars. Even the two world wars weren’t enough for Arthur to rise. Merlin had begun to think, that he may never rise. He couldn’t think of anything worse than the two big wars. Well, actually he had a sliver of hope that America might slip up and that would finally be enough. But who knows?

This night Merlin decided to sleep under the open sky. It was warm enough and he liked to see the stars. He tried to silence his mind, but one thought stayed with him until he fell asleep: I don’t think I can wait anymore. 

 

“You really are hopeless.”

Merlin moved slightly in his sleep. Dreams of Arthur were a frequent occurance and mostly it was some form of banter. He was slowly waking up, but tried to avoid it a little longer. He wanted to hear more of Arthur’s voice, see more of his smile.

“Aw, come ON. Get up… alright then. Rise and shine! Come on lazy daisy! Up and at them… oh for christ’s sake.”

Merlin woke up laughing. Never before had he heard Arthur using those expressions. He stretched carefully, hearing the pop in his spine. The sun shone brightly, he had to shut his eyes. Slowly blinking, his eyes got used to it. He half-expected that Arthur would be standing in front of him. But there was only the shining sun, the calm lake. 

He was desperate. All this time he had waited, always patient, always hoping. He couldn’t take it anymore. The sadness and the grieve rose again. First a heavy weight in his stomach, twisting and contracting as if it wanted to tear a whole through his gut. He felt his limbs go tense, his hands balling into fists, his jaw set. He forced himself to stand up, gaze locked firmly on the dancing light in the water. He walked with heavy steps. His eyes burnt with unshed tears, glowing in a fierce gold. 

The water parted, opening a path to him and only to him. It was enough. He kept walking, only when he was in the middle of the lake, did he stop. The sword, legendary excalibur, was stuck to the hilt in the ground. 

Merlin understood. This was his way out. The only possibility he had. The only thing that could kill him once and for all. No more incarnations. No more waiting. No more suffering. 

The golden eyes got even brighter. The magic slowly forcing the sword out of the stone. No more hesitation. The decision was made, the consequences be damned. The most powerful sorcerer the world had ever known kneeled on the cold hard ground. Shutting his eyes, he willed the sword to hover above him and then with one long breath, he let go. The sword forcefully aiming to behead him, the water finally falling down into place. 

“Merlin? MERLIN!”

He was cold. Something was pressed against his side, slightly less cold. Another harder thing was pressing against his temple. His temple.. wait, what? He struggled to open his eyes, but he still only saw black spots dancing in his vision. A low clanging, like metal chains. 

As the spots cleared, he saw the face he had been waiting for. He saw strong features, tight in fear, brilliant blue eyes clouded by worry. 

“Arthur..”

It was little more than a breath. Arthur was here, craddling Merlin in his arms. 

“Yes, of course. Did you expect someone else?”

Merlin would have died for that smile. Even if it was dampened by the obvious effort it cost. It took him a few more seconds to realize he was wrapped in the king’s cloak and another to notice the hand in his hair, carefully stroking it out of his face. He was still cold and Arthur’s armor wasn’t helping.

“What happened? The sword?”

“Really? THAT is what you’re worried about. I left it in the lake. I kinda had my hands full with you. And what was that about anyway? What kind of stupid idiot would.. well what did you do? Lucky for you, I have good reflexes. Caught the sword one-handed by the way.”

Arthur was rambling. Merlin couldn’t help but smile. He was back, he was actually back. In all his overprotectiveness, all the banter, the stupid armor that he had polished more often than strictly necessary. 

“You’re back. In Albion’s time of greatest need.”

“That can wait. Merlin, what were you doing?”

 

That was the last straw. Everything suddenly clicked. Merlin started shaking violently, unable to control himself. His breathing sped up. He tried to speak, but every muscle felt so tense, like he was pulled in so many directions all at once. Eventually he got a hand free and tentatively reached for Arthur. He clawed helplessly at the chainmail, unable to find a grip. 

“Merlin, Merlin please. Breathe. It’s alright. I got you out, you’re not drowning.”

Arthur was quick to catch the trembling hand, holding it tightly to his chest. Merlin had looked so different back in the lake. He had strange clothes and his hair was much longer. Something was very wrong. His friend was cold and desperate, where he had been warm and hopeful before. Arthur had no idea how long he had been lost in the mist of Avalon, but it had been too long. He knew how strong Merlin was, something terrible must have happen to reduce him to this sorry creature. The sorcerer was pressing close to Arthur, trying to hold on and push away at the same time. He was mumbling now, but it was nearly unintelligible. Arthur could only make out ‘sorry’ and ‘missed you’.

“Alright. Calm down. Alright. Stop apologizing, you idiot. Just breathe.”

Several minutes later Merlin had managed to get it together. Now he was quietly leaning against Arthur’s chest, still holding his hand firmly. Arthur had not tried to ask what happened again. He had resigned to holding his friend close and waiting out whatever this was.

“Sorry about that.”

“What did I tell you? Stop apologizing. It’s fine.”

“I… It’s good to see you. I thought.. I couldn’t wait any longer.”

Arthur squeezed his hand. A silent shut up. He didn’t have to see Merlin’s face. The pain was evident in his strained voice. Arthur wasn’t stupid. He was quite certain of Merlin’s intention when he had been in the lake. Otherwise he wouldn’t have forced his way out of the mist. It wasn’t Albion’s time of greatest need. Arthur himself had done his outmost to help his friend and stop excalibur.

“How long?”

“…”

“Merlin, how long since I died?”

“Maybe 700 years”

“And you waited for me. All this time.”

“Yes” 

 

 

“Can you.. Do you remember what happened to the knights?”

And Merlin told him. He started with Gwaine’s sacrifice, told him of Gwen’s second marriage, how she ruled Camelot in his spirit, but died during her first child’s birth. He talked about Sir Leon and Sir Percival who led the army together and counseled the Queen. Both left after her death. Percival took on a quest of his own to retrieve the holy grail and there had been no word from him ever since. Sir Leon had gone missing during the battle against the Romans. He told him that Camelot had fallen, that the Romans had been too strong and too many. They didn’t have any intentioin of ruling themselves though and had put Gwen’s son on the throne after killing his father. The boy had been young and easy to control, but he had done his best to protect the remnants of the kingdom. Eventually he had been poisoned by jealous cousins. Merlin regretted leaving Camelot when they woud have still needed him. He had lost so many people there though that he couldn’t bear to stay. 

“That’s perfectly understandable. I would have left too.”

That was a lie. Merlin was certain about it. Arthur was trying to comfort him and he appreciated that. But there was no way, that Arthur would have left Camelot as long as he could have helped a single person. 

Merlin worked his way out of the cloak, careful not to elbow Arthur. His legs were still wobbly and it took a lot of effort to walk a few steps towards the lake. Arthur followed behind him. 

“I’m sorry. I should have stayed. I could have helped, I know I could. I let you down. I let them destroy everything you built.”

Merlin still had his back to Arthur. He couldn’t face him. It hurt, it hurt so much. All the lives he lead, failing to change anything. Failing to live by Arthur’s spirit. He had been hollow and without a purpose for so long, because he had given up on his original goal. There was no place for magic in this world anymore. Equality was a dream and forever would be. 

 

“Merlin. Either you stop holding back and cry or I will.”

Surprised he spun around. Arthur’s face was red, his jaw clenched so tight it looked painful.

“I can’t. I can’t cry anymore.”

Arthur pulled him close once again. His grip was tight almost painful and he was shaking with sobs. Merlin could feal the hot tears soaking his shirt where Arthur buried his head. It still hurt, but he felt it ease up a little. Arthur was crying for him, he shed Merlin’s tears. 

Finally, Merlin could let go of the past. He didn’t need to remember anymore. There would be no more waiting, no more rebirth. He was allowed to forget. With every tear Merlin felt his power awaken and strenghten. The once and future king had always been a source of magic, even if he couldn’t use it. He had been Merlin’s strength in the past and together they would be great again. 

Together they could heal the wounds of the land.

They could bring peace again.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a very clear starting point, or rather a specific scene I wanted to write. Everything else thoug? Just kinda.. happened.  
> Also anyone else happy with Aithusa being Nessie? ^^
> 
> I am not opposed to Merthur at all. But I felt that even if they were lovers, more than anything Merlin needed his friend. So I can't really see Arthur acting like a lover, after just being resurrected. He cares about Merlin too deeply, to even bring it up so shortly after reconnecting.


End file.
